A Closer Listen
This year’s best drone albums do more than offer steady, immersive tones; they also tackle weighty issues and serve as the voices of the voiceless. The topics include the erasing of history, the removal of human rights, the specter of totalitarianism and the denial of climate change. By delving into ancestry, nature and spirituality, these albums express a deep dissatisfaction with the world, while continuing to recognize its beauty. Somehow while listening, one is able to connect with the sorrow of the ages, and look past it to find new definition and hope. If empathy is produced through the work of these artists, all the better; through the mist, we may yet find clarity. The drone genre has never seemed so relevant as it does right now.
Concepción Huerta ~ El Sol de los Muertos (Umor Rex)
An album that sees Concepción Heurta get subterranean (again), following on from 2024’s The Earth Has Memory. Once more delving beneath the earth, El Sol de los Muertos drags its imagery from the magma beneath our feet, the rivers of lava that connect to the surface, occasionally bursting forth in violence, chaos and beauty. The drone compositions provide a sense of uncertainty for the listener, offering release in a sudden, unexpected eruption. The deep dive into these undercurrents acts as a metaphor for the hidden (or obscured) past; what is buried will eventually explode; the longer it stays repressed, the greater the impact. (Jeremy Bye)
Original Review
Debit ~ Desaceleradas (Modern Love)
All culture is remix culture, and all culture is also a way of mapping time. Desaceleradas reconfigures an already novel temporal configuration of cumbia, focusing on the moment, like all the best drone music does, in which a sound is born. Yet it has no beginning as such, for it is the materialization of a process, a minuscule-yet-monumental shift in the history of becoming a sign, the end of which is the context where it takes place; this is dance, but it is the very earth realizing it. (David Murrieta Flores)
Original Review
emptyset ~ Dissever (Thrill Jockey)
Dissever draws on the intertwined histories of cosmic rock, minimalism, and electronic music, filtering them through a shared technological ambition. Its patient, rhythmic structures are built entirely from live takes, channeling the raw electrical history of sites like the Tate Modern’s Turbine Hall where it was first performed. Forgoing beats for immense texture, the duo crafts pulsing, crackling architectures from live takes that feel on the verge of overload. (Joseph Sannicandro)
Original Review
Grand River ~ Tuning the Wind (Umor Rex)
“A piece about the wind, made with the wind,” Tuning the Wind is the perfect soundtrack to a windy night, especially when the wind is whipping, whistling, winding through every window. Aimée Portioli’s installation piece invites listeners to consider the aural quality of nature’s breath. Her tuning translates the howling into something approachable, albeit untamable; synthesizer performs a melodic duet, an ambassador to the gale. (Richard Allen)
Original Review
Hekla ~ Turnar (Phantom Limb)
Few theremin artists cross over into the public consciousness, but those who do make an indeliable impact. Such is the case with Iceland’s Hekla, whose album was partially recorded in the tower of a church castle. Kristján Hrannar guest stars on organ, Hekla adds cello and voice, and the impact is both holy and otherworldly. The mysteries are deep yet impenetrable; better to be lost in these catacombs, wondering if the shadows are moving. (Richard Allen)
Original Review
Imperial Valley ~ American Memory (Folded Time)
There’s a sense of deliberate obfuscation with Imperial Valley. Originally credited to CF Moore (later revealed to be Richard Skelton), we’re never quite sure of the provenance therein. Are they framing rediscovered recordings of Dust Bowl-era voices? Are they contemporary documents as the USA heads worringly close to recreating the conditions for another Great Depression? Is it more concerning that the voices could date from then or now? Long, rumbling drones, with the occasional rhythm bubbling to the surface, coupled with a constant threat to collapse, hold the attention. (Jeremy Bye)
Original Review
Kali Malone & Drew McDowell ~ Magnetism (Ideologic Organ)
Metallic tones changing density. Reverberations dripping away into new, aurally liquid forms. Usually, drone albums like these – focused on the volume – attempt solidity, of the type that draws a wall before you, but what Malone and McDowall have crafted here is a drone with surface tension. It will slightly bend to your listening before filling it, truly an immersion into harmonic relations. (David Murrieta Flores)
Original Review
Natalie Beridze ~ Street Life
When does a drone become a protest song? Built entirely from field recordings from the Tbilisi ongoing daily demonstrations in Tbilisi, Street Life turns the city’s unrest into its only instrument. In a country riven by rigged elections, and a government pivoting away from Europe, that adopted the Foreign Agent Law from Russia together with anti-LGBTQIA+ legislation, Beridze captures the charged soundscape of a population refusing silence. Siren-like horns blur into wails, crowds dissolve into foggy textures, and the city itself becomes a barometer of dissent. (Gianmarco Del Re)
Original Review
Paul Jebanasam ~ mātr (Subtext)
It’s extremely difficult for a December album to make a year-end chart, but mātr is the exception, thanks to advance publicity, another reason to admire the sublime Subtext label. The vast music invites listeners to consider their relationship with nature in light of deep, geologic time. The end result is humbling, as the music conveys a sense of timelessness, with a sliver of specificity in the center: humanity’s brief, bright appearance before it (potentially) burns out. (Richard Allen)
Original Review
Sara Persico ~ Sphaîra (Subtext)
Designed, built, but never completed, the Rachid Karami International Fair in Tripoli, Lebanon, is now a UNESCO World Heritage site. Closed to visitors, Sara Persico nevertheless negotiated her way past the armed guards for a three-hour recording session, which captures the abandoned concrete structures and the surrounding nature beautifully. There’s the resonance that seemingly only exists in empty buildings. There’s also the human element where Persico captures her voice and ‘plays’ some of the constructions. Towards the end, the sound of the nearby city creeps into the recording. This is adventurous and visionary, capturing a lost world and placing the listener right in the centre. (Jeremy Bye)
Original Review
Sat Dec 13 00:01:19 GMT 2025